Memory
by Mighty ANT
Summary: En route to New York City  -or Antarctica, to Skipper's mind-  the lead penguin's true emotional trigger that brought back memories of the Central Park Zoo weren't the snow cones. Skilene -OneShot-


**Memory**

_~Penguins of Madagascar © DreamWorks and Nickelodeon~_

_En route to New York City (or Antarctica, to Skipper's mind) the lead penguin's true emotional trigger that brought back memories of the Central Park Zoo weren't the snow cones. _

* * *

Sitting on a poorly-built raft in the middle of God-knew-where would usually put things into perspective for most people.

But Skipper wasn't 'most people'.

And so, with the twinkle-toed lion next him (that the penguin may or may not have imagined) and who Skipper was positive to be named Peaches, trying to convince him that penguins lived in 'New York', wherever that was. Penguins lived in good old Antarctica; any dim-witted bonehead knew that, as Skipper was quick to point out.

But the lion's constant pestering in attempt to bring something back—a memory, to be more specific—was grudgingly succeeding. Images would suddenly flash through his mind, too swift for him to properly decipher, jagged and random, often including three other penguins—whose features and names were still alien to him—extremely similar to the ones his so-called spirit guide had drawn in the sand, along with a tall, grey squirrel-like creature with a leafy crown of sorts. And lastly (but perhaps the most potent of recollections) were of an otter.

Bright, brown eyes swam through his mind, a large cheerful smile….and a feeling unlike any other. Memories abruptly came through in quick succession, although the features of all but the otter were obscured.

An unorthodox, but pleasant meeting, battling an enormous creature in the confines of the sewer, a flipper thrown almost carelessly around her waist, the otter (willingly) falling into his embrace, and something more than friendship shared. Dozens of different high jinks passed through his subconscious, most resolving cleanly and happily, a laugh shared near the end and the pride of a mission well done. She was seen as an equal, no matter what lower-mammal cracks he made about or around her in the past. And yet Skipper couldn't find a name to fit this most imposing of creatures.

The lion's—Peaches'—queries and outright babbling was beginning to make the penguin lose his train of thought, along with the fragile memories he had uncovered. He doubted that he would ever be able to bring them back once they were lost….

And then, like a bolt of lightning, a most forceful recollection was brought forth, whether it was by something his spirit guide had said or done, he didn't know, but it was there nevertheless, playing like an old movie reel at the back of his mind.

"…._No thanks, but I do appreciate your raving paranoia_."

"_Anytime, Marlene. Anytime_."

And just like that, there was a name to accompany the face.

The insight came quickly, the image crystal clear and stunning, and Skipper was only shocked to find—as the lion attempted to cover his beak in order to stifle another mention of anything regarding Antarctica—that the entire revelation had taken less than a couple minutes.

And the mere name of the snowy wasteland had been all but banished from the penguin's mind, instead replaced by thoughts of the otter herself.

'Marlene' was already on the tip of his tongue—the mammal being the most powerful memory from his home—before he caught himself. Was he _really _going to admit to his 'spirit guide', that his mind had most assuredly conjured up in order to give him someone to talk to, that he was…in _love _with the otter next door? Then again, if the lion _was_ his spirit guide, wouldn't he have already known….?

The entire contemplation took less than a second, but for Skipper it felt like an eternity. Finally, his unflappable pride got the best of him once more, and removed the lion's paw from his beak, answering with the most cheerful smile he could muster, deftly hoping that it looked convincing, despite the fact that the object he spoke of paled in comparison to _her_.

"Snow…cones!"

* * *

_**A/N: Yeah, I'm a bit new to th PoM fandom, but I hope that you enjoyed this! I got this idea while watching 'The Return of the Revenge of Doctor Blowhole', obviously, and I believe that Skipper's response to the 'most potent memory from your home' question was quite...lame. I mean come on, SNOW CONES? And so, I made this is retaliation. **_

_**Reviews would be greatly appreciated, and flames are wholly unwanted! **_


End file.
